Murder Most Foul
by Maulinator9
Summary: Callus is an assasin sent on a dark mission to uncover the location of yet another target. Stealth and lethality are the tools at his disposal


Murder Most Foul

Callus breathed heavily as he pressed his back to the wall. He peeked around the corner and saw 3 men sitting looking at a projection on the opposite wall. The room was dark around him, the only light coming from the projection. He flipped his dagger into his hand and crept up behind one of the men. As quickly as it had happened it was over. Callus stood up behind the man and placed his left hand over the man's mouth and quick and efficiently slit his throat, spilling his blood on Callus' arms and hands.

Callus slowly lowered the man's body to the ground and laid him in a corner. His fellows didn't even notice his death, spilling the essence from a person was a nasty business, but a business none the less. Callus' calmed his breathing and made his way to where the other two men were seated.

He grabbed their hair and smashed their heads together. He hefted one of the men up and heaved his body, headfirst, into the nearby wall. The second man was dispatched just as quickly. He spun and struck at Callus. Callus stepped away from the blow and delivered one of his own. He smashed the man's nose into the back of his head drawing massive amounts of blood. He fell to the ground clutching his face.

The man's breathing was ragged, barely clutching on to the gift of life. Callus was here to take that gift back. There was fear in the man's eyes, not fear of death, but the inherent fear that every creature holds deep inside his very being. Callus put his palm on the man's chest and plunged his dagger into the man's heart. There was a final gasp, one last futile attempt at life, no matter the ferocity of the man's struggle his journey was over his trip across time was complete, where his destination lay was none of Callus' concern. His job was not over.

Callus pulled a wool mask over his face that had a slit for his eyes and two small holes for his nostrils. He crept up to a door at the end of the room and crouched beside the jam. He pressed his ear against the door, the cool metal was still felt through the thick wool on his ear. He couldn't hear any sounds coming from the other side but that didn't mean that his objective wasn't there.

All of his information pointed to his target being in this room, at this time every day like clockwork. He reached his hand up and placed it on the door, he pushed gingerly and it began to creak open. Still no sounds of stirring or signs of any sort of life whatsoever. There was a warm orange light shining from the corner opposite him as he quietly slipped into the room through the shadows. He quickly slid into the shadows on the wall and crept into the corner.

He surveyed the room around him, it was quite lavishly furnished. The orange glow was from an actual fireplace in the wall. In front of the fireplace was a big chintzy chair The back was very high and Callus couldn't see if anyone was sitting in the chair. He took a risk and began to creep up on the chair. The wood of the floors creaked under his weight and he thought he heard someone stirring and quickly analyzed the room around him. No signs of any one in the room other than himself, he took a breath and continued moving on the chair.

He stood and flipped the chair forward, sending a smaller man tumbling out onto the ground. Callus pounced quickly on the man and clamped his powerful hand over the trachea of his prey.

"Where's Tyraf?" Callus whispered to the man. Though it a whisper it's force was enough to frighten most men.

"Why should I tell you?" asked the small man, with more than a little quiver in his voice.

"Do you wanna' die quick or slow?"

"What about not at all?" Callus grinned at the man's attempt to bargain for his life.

"Sorry pal, not a choice."

"So why should I give you information if I'm dead anyway?"

"Good question, so let me ask you one," Callus reached forward and pulled a poker from the fire. Callus sat on the man's chest and held the red-hot poker mere inches from the man's face. "You feel like playin' a game?"

"Hmmm, looks like I don't have a choice."

"You don't. So tell me, where's Tyraf?"

"Not a chance."

"Alright then." Callus placed the poker on the man's forehead and smelt the skin burning away from the bone. He struggled to get free but Callus wasn't shifting from his position. Callus removed the poker and looked back down at his captive. "Ready to try again? Where's Tyraf?"

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Your choice, not the smart one, but yours none the less." Callus smiled taking the poker and stretching out the man's arm he traced a line with the poker from wrist to elbow. He lifted the poker up and stabbed it right into the elbow joint. The man let out a scream, Callus silenced it with his hand as he worked it around in the wound, causing more and more damage as he tore cartilage and ligaments in the man's elbow. Callus sighed as he pulled the poker out, the wound didn't bleed as the heat cauterized the blood vessels that had been damaged.

"Well that was nasty eh? Now let's be reasonable, all I wanted to do was for you to tell me where he was. Then I woulda' slit your throat and that woulda' been it. But you wanted to make it difficult. You won't be living in the next 5 minutes so lets make it a painless as can be now." Callus looked the man dead in the eye, "Where's Tyraf?"

"I…I…" The man stammered, from shock and shear terror. "All the information is in my desk. I have his schedule for the next month documented, I'm sure you can find a time to kill him then."

"There that wasn't so hard was it?" Callus grinned as he stood up. He reached for his holster but stopped and looked from the man to the poker in his hand. His grin got wider as he held the poker he stabbed it through the man's genitals and into the wooden floor beneath them.

The scream was shrill enough to shatter glass and loud enough to wake the dead. He writhed on the floor like a huge game fish just landed on the deck of a ship. Callus removed the poker and the man let out a gasp and began breathing raggedly. He wouldn't die from his injuries, but he didn't have much of a reason to live.

"Bastard… you said it would be quick."

"I lied, sorry." Callus chuckled as he pulled his dagger and knelt beside the man. "Here ya go." Callus slit both of the man's wrists and then his carotid artery. He then quickly moved down and made cuts behind the man's knees into the arteries there. He would bleed out in less than a minute. Callus knelt there and watched as the blood flowed out onto the ground. The man seemed relaxed as his life was fleeing from him.

The man seemed to be taking an extraordinarily long time to die, he was a fighter no doubt but even the most firm of will can't overcome the wounds that the man had inflicted upon him. Callus watched as the man breathed his last, it seemed to take hours for the final breath to escape his lungs but as it did the man's chest heaved and the death rattle told the final story. Callus wiped his dagger off and stood as he replaced it in the sheath. He took the information from the desk and headed back out the way he came.


End file.
